So it’s time to face facts, unless he gets a move on in the next 24-36 hours, I’m having an induction.

Last Friday I was 40 weeks and a day, the Doc said it was “reasonable” for me to ask for an induction at any point.

And I told him I really hoped to avoid another induction.

So he said it was also “reasonable” for me to go to 42 weeks.

And I told him I was most interested in 1) having an absolutely healthy baby and 2) avoiding a C-section if at all possible.

To which he promptly responded, “I’ll see you Thursday night for an induction.”

And I really do kinda’ hope I actually see him because he’s my favorite doctor and yet, maybe I don’t want to see him because I’m bound to be a cantankerous bitch and he doesn’t deserve that. . .

Regardless, tomorrow is 41 weeks. So after we put Mac to bed, we’ll head to the hospital. Good times.

I’m so annoyed.

And I’m obviously a horrible helicopter parent, so I’m busy drafting 20 pages of instructions for poor Uncle Mike who will be here charged with taking care of our kid and pets while I get pumped full of synthetic hormones and gawd only knows what else.

I should mention that Uncle Mike is successfully raising 4 wonderful children. I mean like truly wonderful – they are smart and well-rounded and the most caring, thoughtful, responsible teenagers I’ve EVER met. SERIOUSLY.